Mom Lost Her Washcloths

Mom is adorable. I never know what to expect her to do or say next. She would lose her hind-end if it wasn’t attached to her backside.

Barry and I came in yesterday to find mom frantically searching for something. When Barry went to change clothes, mom told me that she had washed all of her socks and wash clothes, which were now missing. She was wringing out one wash cloth daily, for a 2 weeks now and decided she could find hers on her own. She also decided not to tell us or ask to borrow a wash cloth. I told her to quit being silly and let’s find her wash clothes.

Mom is wonderful. I start the laundry, my disability allows me to do this after someone carries the clothes to the laundry. I cannot pick-up more than 5 pounds at a time. Mom then folds/hangs up and helps put the laundry away. She doesn’t realize how much help this is.

English: Laundry is hung to dry above an Itali...

English: Laundry is hung to dry above an Italian street.                                 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)                                                     

Mom: does this look like a woman that cannot keep up with anything?wpid-IMAG0137.jpg

Personal Prayer Request

I believe in the power of prayer. I have seen too many things in my lifetime that proves there is. On this date, I am asking that everyone pray for my father, Lee Van Hayes. He received some extremely bad news from his doctor today. I think we were all expecting it, even dad, but hearing those words are not easy. WordPress Blogs are full of love and kindness, with a few freaky things added in. I’d love it if I could take my computer to Pop and show him all the well wishes received from my fellow bloggers.

WordPress reaches tons of people. It would be such a wondrous thing to get at least half the people, in our blogosphere, saying a little prayer for one special man. I know he is not special to everyone, but he is to my family and his friends. My dad doesn’t meet strangers, he likes everyone. He is just the biggest sweetheart on earth! My family, as well as Barry and I would greatly appreciate any small wish of good health or just a hope you are feeling better soon.

We are to the point that prayer is the answer. Dad is in God‘s hands and he will take care of him. Thank you in advance for anything you say!

If my comments section is not working yet, please use the email available for my blog: geegeebear3@gmail.com.

Have a bless day!

Barry and Jill

and the family of LeeVan Hayes

English: The logo of the blogging software Wor...

English: The logo of the blogging software WordPress. Deutsch: WordPress Logo 中文: WordPress Logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Just Write: Raising Mom/ written to post next week, it couldn’t wait! Forgive me please

my momma

my momma

Mom is struggling.
She regrets so much in life
She is worried about her husband, but the home wasn’t safe for either of them to live.
Sleep with a gun on your bedside table, not feeling comfortable in your home or around your husband’s family.
She doesn’t understand why her problem started.
Bipolar Disease and Lewy Body Dementia?
I’m not sick, where did this come from?
The doctors have spoken with her, but her brain can no longer fully understand.
Feels like the old her is slipping away.
Fighting her independence, fear slipping in.
The unknown is scary.
Accepting her daughters and son-in-laws as caregivers and protectors.
Barry and I are helpful and supportive, she doesn’tbknow how to accept assistance or be humble when needed,
This is not the way it should go.
She dreads becoming a burden, even though everyone tells her she isn’t, We also love her dearly.
She feels like nothing is wrong, until the terror sets in at night.
Hallucinations and living out dreams with family long gone.
Should be scary, but she enjoys seeing her visitors.
Mom hates medication, but it is working beautifully. Big improvementd, no more driving.
She’ll adapt, she didn’t need to drive anyway. She used to be a wee-bit scary behind the wheel
Life with mom, our big adventure.

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http://extraordinary-ordinary.net/2011/09/10/just-
write/

My Infamous School Teacher: Mrs. C.

Another mom story, every word I am about to write is true. I saw every minute. 

In the eleventh grade, I became sick. I missed a lot of school and ended up having major surgery. I was on the homebound program for school for months as I healed after the surgery. I loved books and I was bored silly. Having schoolwork to do was a blessing. Your mother and a tv can be entertaining for only so long at age 16.

When the doctor cleared me to return to school, I was thrilled. My first day back at school was a train wreck. Most of my classes went wonderfully. Then came Mrs. C.. The minute class started, she announced that there was a quiz over yesterday’s material and everyone would be expected to take part. She called my name out and said, “Yes, even you Miss Jill. Your days of special treatment end today.” I objected, because I had not been given yesterday’s assignment. She sent me to the office to see the principal.

I went to the office and called my mother and told the receptionist what happened; who went running to the principal, while I waited for mom. Mr. C. the principal, walked up to me and started begging me to call off mom, he said he’d handle the problem. He repeated the same thing continuously until my mother walked through the door. Poor Mr. C. had already survived my mom with my older sister, so he knew what she wad capable of.

Mom asked me to show her to the classroom. Mr. C. behind us every step of the way, calmly asking mom to come to his office. Mom kept walking. When we got to the classroom, Mrs. C. acted shocked and told her to get out. his Mom backed Mrs. C. into the corner of the classroom. She started yelling at her that she was never to treat her daughter like that again. “Picking on her in front of the class and not sending correct assignments home was cruel”. She turned and looked at the principal and told him if he didn’t handle the problem, she would with the board of education.

Mom backed away from my teacher and started to leave the room. She turned and told me to gather my things, I was going home. The classroom was laughing hysterically. As she walked by the principal, she asked him to sign me out and we went home. One day in high school I will never forget.

 

I felt so lost…

I felt so lost yesterday, this morning I realized I stayed so busy yesterday, that I never wrote a post. My father had a rough Sunday night. We received a call at 9AM from a friend of Pop’s. He had found Pop unconscious in the floor of his bedroom. He called 911 and Pop was taken to Athens to the hospital. Sandy was on the way when Kristie called. She was working and could not leave. Barry, Mom, and I got dressed and headed to the hospital.  By the time we got there, he was being admitted to the hospital.  Sandy stayed a few minutes longer, then had to leave to do her bus route. She could not find a substitute for the afternoon route.

We stayed until Kristie and the boys arrived. Pop was comfortable in his room. Since he had fallen several times, the nursing staff but an alarm on the bed. Pop could not get up without someone hearing an alarm. This made us feel safe to leave him alone for the night. They said he would be discharged the next day. Between Libor and us, someone could pick him up and settled at home before Kristie was home from work.

Pop has a implanted defibrillator. It went off on the 29th of April. He had a heart attack and that defibrillator saved his life. The cardiologist added a new drug that Pop feeling nervous and not good at all. He could not sleep for anything. He gradually felt worse every day on the new drug. We called the doctor’s office for assistance. They did not believe it was the new medicine and stated they would take a good look at him in the office st his appointment. He was scheduled to be in there in 2 days. He was due to see the cardiologist tomorrow. I guess he could not wait.

God leads and guides our daily activities. God must be telling Pop  it is not his time yet. He’s got to hang out with us a while longer. He ready to help us get his affairs in order. Barry and I will be going up to help him set things up this weekend. We’ll have to work things out for healthcare POA’s and type his will up for him. Sandy will have to sign everything when she gets home. She and mom are attending my Nephew, Daniel’s college graduation this weekend. Mom is really looking forward to it. I hope they have a great time.

Life will eventually slow down. My second surgery has been scheduled for May 28th. Looks like my summer will Will be spent healing. YoU’ll still have decisions to make after the surgery. Radiation and chemotherapy are still a big unknown in my life.

Saw my neurologist this morning. He wants me to have a few health issues checked out and deal with the chemotherapy before he changes anything. So I feel kinda lost or on hold until a few issues are settled.I’m digging deep to pull my patience out and focusing on my health and diet while at home.trying recipes that are results to chew and swallow. My body is getting to the point that it has a little trouble doing those things lately.God is guiding me with this issue. I pray and ask for guidance and patience daily. I have figured out it is not my place to ask God why I am in this shape any longer. It is in his plan and I am in his hands. Not going to Strasbourg anything…..at least I’m going to give it my best shot at trying not to stress. God will guide me!

My Mother: Betty Lou Fountain Hayes Hawks Day More Photos to come leading up to mother’s day! Enjoy!

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Growing Up in the Shadows

Before I write this, I want everyone to know every word is TRUE! The sad thing is, this is only one story of many I could tell.

My name is Jill. I am the middle child of three girls. My sisters and I are close. We had to be close growing up. Mom was a little hard to deal with when we were kids. It wasn’t until recently, that we have started to understand mom’s behavior as we grew-up.

Growing up, I worshiped my older sister. I followed her everywhere. I didn’t let her out of my sight for long. When I started my cycle, 2 weeks after Sandy, mom started telling everyone; “Jill never could let Sandy do anything by herself.” I was eight years old and Sandy was 11. At this point, Kristie was young enough not to care about anything her older sisters and what they were doing. She was too busy growing up. 

We grew up in a small town in the days when it was OK to leave kids at the movies, mall (actually I’m not sure we had a local mall yet), or skating rink without grown-up supervision. When mom and dad left us on our own, Sandy took on the role of protector. She watched Kristie and I like a hawk. She wasn’t going to be in charge if something happened.

An unbelievable incident occurred while we were at the local skating rink. The incident slowly evolved from some bigger kids picking on Kristie. She was wearing a tube top, one of the older girls grabbed by the shoulders and dug her finger nails in, to the point of bringing blood from the scratches, left across her shoulders.

Kristie immediately ran to Sandy and pointed the girls out to her. Sandy told the Security Guard, who had a talk with the girls. Which apparently did not a bit of good, because they ran to their mother’s. Their mother’s proceeded to corner Sandy and threaten her.

When mom arrived, Sandy told her the story. You could see mom’s switch flip from cool, calm and collected;  to do not mess with my kids. Sandy pointed everyone out to mom. The security guard realized mom had arrived and he proceeded to attempt to talk her out of saying anything.

Mom went to talk to the older girls. They ran to their mothers. When their mothers confronted our mother, the security guard called the police. I am not sure how to describe the other women involved, politely. They were like no other women I had seen in my lifetime. This was the first time I ever realized women could actually shave their eyebrows and paint them back on. Not a look I care for.

A crowd started to form around the car my mom leaned into to discuss the situation. She must have said something the women in the car didn’t like because they sell got out of the car, came around and surrounded mom.

The driver of the car, pushed mom backwards. Mom got up fighting. She jumped the driver. The next thing we knew mom and the driver were rolling around on the ground and the other women were landing punches as they could. The crowd was wild.

Before the fight was in full swing, the Security Guard called the police. We could here the sirens getting closer in the background. The police arrived, they attempted to stop the fight and desperate everyone. All I could see of the fight was fists and hair flying. At one point, I watched my mother grab the Security Guard and tell him to leave her alone if he didn’t want to loose what she was grabbing.

The police finally separated the fight and attempted to sort out what happened. I do not remember much after this, because our father had been contacted to pick us up. We were taken home and sent to bed. When we got up the next day, mom was home and the previous night was not mentioned.

I have a relationship with my sisters that others have trouble understanding. Maybe it has something to do with our childhood. We went through a lot together.

My husband was an only child. He had one child with his first wife. My oldest sister’s husband grew up with a brother and sister. My youngest sister’s husband is from overseas and grew-up with a sister. Other than Barry, everyone grew-up with a sibling.

Libor, Kristie’s husband, states that he has never seen siblings get along so well together or exhibit the closeness we do concerning one another. 

When Barry and I were married, it took him ages to get used to our relationship. He became a little upset with me once when he overheard a conversation between my oldest sister and myself. He felt I should have been asking him the kind of questions, he heard me asking Sandy.

I tried to explain that I’ve been depending on my sisters for advice on certain topics since I was a kid. He grew up an only child, not knowing what it is like to have a closeness with a sibling. As time goes by, he grows closer to understanding our relationship. 

You have friendship, brotherhood, and many other words to describe a kinship between people. If you do not know or understand what it means to be a sister, you do not know what you are missing.

Sisters are a different breed. We interact with one another on a different level than brothers and friends do. We know each others deep, dark secrets. We ask and answer each other questions you’d have trouble asking you husband or closest friend.

Sisters tell you when they think you are acting like an idiot and then they will also let you know when they think you are brilliant. You can always count on your sister. Through good and bad times, they will always be there for you.

You can count on your sisters to always be open and honest with you. When you get sick, your sister will be there to do whatever needs to be done. Part of being a sister, is being able to tell your sister when they are being complete turds and need to remember there are other people in this world than themselves.

Everyone has busy full lives today, you can’t shuck off your responsibilities to suit your needs. Once a sister, always a sister. Once a daughter, always a daughter. There are a few things in life that cannot be changed. 

With sisters, you can be fighting like cats and dogs one minute or not speaking for months; let something happen and your sisters will be there at the drop of a hat. Sisters are always there when you need them.

Being the middle child of three girls, I felt like I was in the shadow of my sisters daily. We went through the same school system, rode the same bus, had the same issues with our parents. Some how, I man managed to feel over-shadowed by my older and younger sisters. Teachers, the bus driver and other school-related employees used to ask if I talked as much as my older sister. When I said, “No, I was the quiet one.” Their answer was always “Good”.

Kristie over-shadowed me when she was a freshman in high school. I had spent most of my junior year, sick and out of school. Upon returning my senior year, my baby sister took it upon herself to be my protector. She wouldn’t let anyone mess with me. Mrs. Gieger, the bus driver, said Kristie talked too much also. She told me once I was a nice break between my two sisters.

Stairsteps1- Jill and her sisters

Stairsteps1- Jill and her sisters